Over the past two years I’ve witnessed a tremendous change in the parole board’s position on the release of men incarcerated on life sentences. The change has marked a new day in the age of the penal system. From the days when men and women were resentenced by the board with a ten-year flop and extra time after that ten, to now, where men and women are advocating for the release of much of the older incarcerated populace.
Early on in my incarceration there was never a day in which I would learn that a guy was given ten years at his parole hearing. Right on the spot. Back then, I couldn’t imagine, but back then I saw no light at the end of the tunnel of my journey.
Many proponents of flops would probably argue that “when you’re sentenced to life, the parole board isn’t obligated to grant parole. If your sentence is fifteen years to life, it’s exactly what that means.”
And this is true, they aren’t obligated. I’ve never been a critic of the board; their service is just as essential as any public servant who protects the safety of the public. However, the hope in such a position is to have a panel of receptive, objective, and open-minded individuals who see the changed layers of the incarcerated person before them, as well as the flaws, but doesn’t allow the subtle flaws to be a deciding factor.
Today though, things seem to be changing. Since 2024, the parole board has released approximately one hundred prisoners who have come before them.
I had the chance to talk to several of these individuals before they got their day on the other side of the fence. Because some of my past some writings captured the experiences of guys denied by the parole board, I made it my mission over three months, to capture conversations with these guys before they went home and capture the vibe they possessed and to see where their minds are before they leave.
The first person I encountered was Chris. Not many people knew what exactly Chris’s nationality was, some thought he was Hispanic and white, others, pure Sicilian, or something. Chris was given a unanimous vote at his hearing, meaning, no board member opposed his parole. I was happy for him, I knew how much effort he put into working towards being released.
I caught Chris departing the library one early afternoon, he was doing his usual–never sitting. I was leaving work inside the library.
“I heard the great news, congratulations” I told him. I maintained an inside voice although we were outside, I wanted to respect his privacy, although, I was sure the whole institution knew by then.
“Thanks to hard work and God, I am getting a second chance in society.”
“God is good.” I agreed.
“All the time.” He finished. I chuckled.
“So, I’m glad that I ran into you. I was hoping to pick your brain.” I said.
“Okay.” Said Chris, in that humble voice. There was never toxicity present when he spoke.
“Considering this was your first time up, from one to ten, what was your level of comfortability going in?”
Chris appeared to think about his answer. “If I had to put a number on it, I would say, four.” He said. “I was uncomfortable, but also confident if that makes any sense. There was no fear, just nerves. I think if you tell yourself that you’ll be uncomfortable going in, you’ll ultimately fulfill that prophecy.”
“That sounds so true. Any time I go into a situation that I’ve never experienced I tend to question myself, my reason being there. Things tend to go south from there. So, what you said makes sense.” I said. Then added. “So, the best remedy it seems, adding to your point. To prevent creating these prophecies is to put faith in God and allow him to guide you?”
“That’s a great way to put it.” Said Chris.
“So do you think that’s all it took?’ I asked.
“Of course, prayer. But I think several other factors played a significant role.”
“Like?”
“Well, first off, I was a juvenile sentenced to a life sentence. Several years ago, a United States Supreme Court case was released changing how courts sentenced juveniles. I believe that decision had an effect on the board’s decision.”
“I addition to the many things you do in the prison, do you think this played a part in the board’s decision?”
“Most definitely.” Chris retorted.
“It’s been an eighteen-year journey for you,” I said, “what’s your plans upon release?”
Chris readjusted the books he was carrying to his right side. “Well fortunately for me, the community partners who I frequently communicate with, have a job ready for me when I’m released. I’ll be helping men and women coming out of prison, with re-entry planning.”
“Wow, getting right to it.” I stated.
Chris chuckled as if to say, ‘who are you telling?’ “I’m ready for whatever the future has in store for me.”
At end of our conversation, I apologized for taking up his time and away from his mission. I then asked one more question.
“What is your first meal after being released?”
Chris thought about it, then his lips parted. “Freedom on a platter.”
Many were paroled in 2024, but even more in 2025. I knew several guys personally, but I only got enough information from a couple to fill the sheets of this essay.
The one I found most interesting was a guy named Murray. I became acquainted with Murray during my first semester in college here at the prison. Murray handled all the sign-ins, tutoring and several other similar tasks.
At seventy-three years old I often wondered how he managed to have the energy he did to keep up with the workload. Murray was resilient.
At the beginning of 2025 Murray went before the board for his seventh appearance, and after forty-five years in prison, he was given a release date. At the news he did not jump for joy, and I don’t think no one expected him to. His excited expressions emitted one frequency, “meh,” which an occasional chuckle would follow. Murray’s dry, inadvertent humor made him approachable and his willingness to help others with homework assignments made him a scarcity.
So, for a little background on Murray, from what I’ve come to learn of him — he was ex-military, and at the age of twenty-seven he was sentenced to twenty-five to fifty years in prison. Murray was now seventy-two.
In his forty-five years of Incarceration Murray had received one conduct report and seen the parole board seven times.
Throughout his time in prison, he had worked secretary positions for every department one could imagine there being in prison.
It was after he was replaced as an assistant in the college area when he received the news that he was granted parole following his hearing. When news like this breaks, it breaks all over the prison.
We were in the same unit and pretty cordial, for this reason I found it convenient I spoke with him about his future plans. You can say I was curious.
When was sitting alone at a table in the day room playing solitaire on his tablet when I caught up with him. I remember before asking him any questions I joked that he would join a solitaire league when he was released. He tugged at his thick rimmed glasses “meh,” and chuckled.
“If there is a league I would definitely join.” Said Murray. I had to laugh at his sincerity. I then switch the subject.
“So, after forty-five years it’s over.” I said.
“Yes, it is. Of course there is still parole obligations. But I plan to follow that to a T.”
“Do you plan on working. As much as you do around here, I can’t imagine you not working.”
“I doubt someone would be looking forward to hiring a seventy-something year old man. However, I plan on finding something under the table and collecting social security.” The inescapable future of his own reality sort of pinched me. With the exception of his freedom after forty-five years the stark reality was there was no heightened expectations.
“What about housing?” I asked. “Do you plan on staying with your sister.” I knew he was close to his sister and presumed he would go stay with her.
“No. But after I leave here, she’s going to take me shopping, and afterwards I’ll be going to stay in a transitional home for adjustment purposes.” Murray replied.
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“Yeah, I just hope it goes as easy as I envision it going.” There was a slight uncertainty in his voice. It was rare.
“Now, what I really need to know, and you better have an answer for me.” I told him smiling. “What is the first meal that you plan to eat when you’re released?”
“That’s a good question. It’s something I’ve always thought about, but within the last few months I’ve not given it much thought.” He said. “But my dream meal would have to be a sirloin steak with butter rice sprinkled with sugar. I love sugar on rice.”
In July of 2025, Murray took his last walk on the prison grounds. He was processed out in the morning and before the afternoon he was released. Despite his circumstance, Murray’s ability to remain upbeat and welcoming throughout his 45 years is a testament to his resilience, rehab and character.
Both conversations showed me that the culture of prison is changing, and it appears there is tremendous changes occurring with the parole board, as well as well the logic of situational circumstances in the justice system.
Of course, there is a lot of work that still needs to be done, however, the needle seems to be moving in a positive direction.
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